Bible Musings

Before You Cry “Demon!” {A Life Overseas}

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Jonathan is over at A Life Overseas today, taking on the tricky topic of spiritual warfare. 

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I believe the enemy is real. I believe he still seeks to kill and destroy. He still deceives. He still lies. He still wars against the King.

I also believe we blame him for way too much.

We talk about how we’re “under attack” or how our ministry team is receiving a whole lot of “opposition.” And sometimes, we really believe there’s spiritual warfare going on, but often those words and phrases are simply code for “my life’s falling apart right now and I need help” or “our team members are all really angry with each other.” It’s easier to say “we’re under attack” than it is to say “we’re really drowning.”

A conversation on Facebook illustrates the problem. After a missionary described a bunch of really hard stuff that was happening in their life and ministry, a friend left the following comment: “That kind of opposition makes me think that you’re doing something powerful.”

Do we really believe that? Play that logic out a bit: “Oh, bad things are happening to you, you must be doing something right.” Or reverse it, “Oh, things are going well for you, you must be doing something wrong.” That’s crazy talk, really, but we do it all the time.

Do we really believe that the only reason difficult stuff happens to Christians is because we’re doing something right and the hounds of hell are now opposing us? It’s possible, of course, but we make the assumption automatically and apply it liberally. Is it possible that Satan and his demons are wreaking havoc on a specific missionary or ministry? Absolutely. But just because it’s a possibility doesn’t mean it’s the only possibility.

Continue reading the article here.

“God is Disappointed With Me” {A Life Overseas}

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Elizabeth is over at A Life Overseas today, continuing her series on Timothy Sanford’s book “I Have to be Perfect” (And Other Parsonage Heresies). Whew! These last three lies are intense. Don’t miss the end of the post where she offers several resource ideas for combating these lies.

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I grew up hearing sermons about the “goodness and severity of God” and about God not hearing the prayer of the sinner. Girls Bible study times were filled with questions like, “If women are to remain silent in church, is it a sin to whisper in church to ask someone the song number if I didn’t hear it announced?” and “How long should my shorts be?” So by the time I entered ministry at the age of 19, no one had to tell me I needed to be perfect; I already knew I needed to be perfect. And not only did I know I needed to be perfect, I knew everyone else needed to be perfect as well.

At the same time, I knew everyone wasn’t perfect. As a teenager, I knew my church friends were being physically and sexually abused at home, but no one would ever dare talk about that at church, where their dads were leaders. This taught me that the families around me weren’t perfect; it also taught me that they needed to appear that way. Furthermore, it taught me that the rest of us needed to treat them as though they were perfect. The appearance of perfection mattered more than actual righteousness.

Those are my stories; your stories will be different. Yet our collective stories may have taught us something dark and devious: that ministry and missionary families are (or should be) holier than everyone else. Our stories may have taught us that in order to serve God, we need to be super human. At the very least, our stories may have taught us that we need to project an image of perfection. Sometimes we extend this expectation to others and become judgmental of their non-perfection; other times we require it only of ourselves.

Finish reading the post here.

How a Night Owl Woke Up to Mornings

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by Elizabeth

I have NEVER been a morning person. I have therefore never had a morning quiet time. I’ve tried afternoon, evening, and not-at-all, none of which worked long-term. About 6 months ago, something stirred inside me and I wanted more time with God.

My husband was already getting up an hour before everyone else while I stayed in bed, sometimes not even getting up in enough time to eat breakfast with the kids. (I told you I wasn’t a morning person!)

I knew I had to start small. I started with 10 minutes. Yes you read that right. 10 minutes before the kids are allowed out of bed. (Yes there is a rule about their wake time, and thankfully my kids are old enough to understand and obey it.) Even that was hard. I kept pushing back the alarm 5 or 10 minutes, and eventually got to 30 minutes with God. Yes, I would like more, and no, I haven’t been able to move it back any earlier. Yet.

Something that really helped me stick with an earlier wake time was not beating myself up if I missed a day. (That’s Grace, applied to time with God.) I know I can start again the next day. So I don’t let myself feel guilty if I miss a day. But if I miss a few days, I know I have to evaluate, because something’s off that needs tending.

And before, when I’ve tried Bible reading plans, if I missed a day, I would try to double up in order to catch up. I decided that wasn’t going to work long-term, so I don’t do catch up days. I either let myself skip, or stay behind. And I don’t let myself feel guilty if I land somewhere else in Scripture and detour from The Plan. Why should I? I’m still in God’s Word! (Yes, I used to feel guilty about detours — oh, the perfectionism that kills.)

Getting up earlier requires discipline in going to bed earlier, and let me tell you, I am STILL not great at this. I still stay up too late sometimes and have a hard time getting out of bed. My introvert self really needs quiet time with God in the morning. Ironically, when my introvert self has been “socialed out,” I’m too exhausted to get up in the morning, thereby thwarting the very healing I need. Too much social interaction interferes with my ability to hear from God, and I just have to accept that fact.

I think the surprising thing has been what has happened inside me since I made this commitment. Sometimes it doesn’t feel fruitful. But if I look back over the last several months, the fruit of peace and intimacy with God is clear to me. I’ve had lots of spiritual breakthroughs. I’ve fallen more in love with God and His Word. I’ve discovered I like reading it; it’s not just a duty anymore.

I remember taking teenagers in America to Acquire the Fire conference several years ago. Phil Joel, former bass player for the band Newsboys, was talking about dedicating his mornings to time with God. After several months of this, he remembers sitting across the breakfast table from his wife, realizing the changes God had made in him, his marriage, and his parenting, and saying, “It’s working, isn’t?”

I think that’s how I feel about my morning times with God. I don’t always get it right. Sometimes I skip and stay in bed. Sometimes I don’t get much out of it. Sometimes I read more than I pray. Sometimes I pray more than I read. Sometimes I sit and stew and worry. Other times I receive visions from God that impart deep, deep healing. All I know is that after several months of this, I have been changed, and getting up early is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

And then, recently, I came across these tips for night owls like me. I had implemented several of them myself in attempting to get up earlier and was excited to know other people thought they worked too. And I LOVE the title “Hello Mornings.” For someone who’s not a morning person, it’s hopeful and helpful to look at mornings through such a warm and friendly lens. I especially like tips #3, #4, #10, #11, and #13. I’m sharing the link in the hope it can help someone who’s struggling to get up in the morning with God.

*photo credit

He Unbreaks It

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by Elizabeth

The Twelve Days of Christmas are past; it is Epiphany. Today — the day we commemorate the Wise Men’s visit to Baby Jesus — is our official farewell to the Christmas season. But can I linger on the Christmas story just a little bit longer? Because I’m not quite ready to say goodbye.

I’m amazed by the sheer number of times Heaven enters our world in the events leading up to and surrounding the birth of Christ. First the angel Gabriel, who stands in the very presence of God, appears to Zechariah, foretelling the birth of a son – a prophet — to a barren woman.

Then Gabriel appears to Mary with a message unlike any other, announcing a calling unlike any other: she will give birth to the Son of the Most High. She has been chosen to mother the Messiah, to carry the One whose Kingdom will never end. Of one thing this young Virgin is certain: the God we serve is the God of the Impossible.

And when Mary arrives at Elizabeth’s home and the Holy Spirit fills Elizabeth, causing her to prophesy over Mary, oh, it just takes my breath away. For here in this moment, God trusts not an angel but a fallen human being to deliver confirmation that Mary isn’t crazy, that she isn’t alone, and that the Child within her truly is special.

Joseph is visited in a dream that both confirms the Virgin Birth and ensures that the Babe’s birthplace will be in Bethlehem, just as the Scriptures promise. I’m not one to put too much stock in our night dreams, so I’m thankful Mary’s husband takes heed of his.

And then there were the shepherds, night-shift-workers minding their own business. Non-essential players all – until they hear the host of Heaven, that is. Nudged onto the stage of the Nativity, they travel to the city of David, where their arrival on the stable’s doorstep confirms to Mary and Joseph yet again the specialness of this Child.

Joseph and Mary, good Jewish parents that they are, dedicate their son at the Temple. And God confirms His word once more, this time through a praying woman and a dying man. The identity of God’s Son is revealed to Simeon and Anna, bolstering both the freshly-minted parents and the elderly faithfuls: this is the beauty of the gift of prophecy.

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I’m overwhelmed by the lengths God went to in order to confirm His Word and the coming of His Son. Over and over again, He speaks. Mary certainly had many things to treasure in her heart, to remind herself that she was indeed NOT crazy. But the part about the Christmas story I cherish so very much is what we celebrate today – God’s inclusion of pagans in His redemption story.

These pagans, these Wise Men from the East, were not of the family of Israel. These Magi, these star-gazers, placed their trust in the sky. But God speaks their language: He gives them a sign in their beloved sky. And when their faith leads them to seek and find the Promised Child, they worship Him. God rewards their sacrifices with another sign, this time a dream to send them safely on their way back home. I absolutely love this about God, that He invites ALL people to be part of His story, to be part of His family, to receive His salvation.

Epiphany means “to make manifest.” And today, we rejoice in this Epiphany. We rejoice that God makes Himself known not only to Israelites but also to Gentiles like the Wise Men — to a Gentile like myself. We rejoice that from the very beginning, God wanted communion with every single person He created – and that when He made Himself manifest to Abraham, it was to bless all families on earth. His covenant was not only meant to set Abraham apart, it was meant to draw all people to Him.

So on this day, we honor the heart of the Father, a heart that beats with longing for us.

For all of us.

This world He made, we broke it.

But He unbreaks it.

He unbreaks it, through a tiny Baby.

He unbreaks it, one recaptured soul at a time.

All people may come — praying saints, dirty shepherds, unexpected pagans from afar.

His will is for all to hear His voice, to see His star.

His will is for all to turn toward Him, to journey to Him.

His desire is for the nations.

Glory be to God.

What Good is That??

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by Elizabeth

It’s such a familiar story, this feeding of the five thousand. I’ve known it since forever.

Jesus sees a huge crowd of people coming to look for Him and asks Philip, “Where can we buy bread to feed all these people?” When Philip only answers that they don’t have enough money to purchase food for everyone, Andrew points out a young boy with five barley loaves and two fish. “But what good is that with this huge crowd?” Andrew asks.

But what good is that??

What good is that?

This is something I repeatedly say to God.

“I offer you this, God. My life, my heart, my all.”

And then I turn around and faithlessly say, “but what good is that, with 7 billion people on this planet?” It’s nothing, not good for anything. You’ll never do anything important or valuable with that, I tell Him.

But Jesus is never in a quandary about how to use His created resources — when He spoke to Philip, “He already knew what He was going to do.” He already knew He was going to provide for the people. He already knew He was going to use a small sack lunch to feed the hungry crowd. He already knew He was going to perform a miracle, and blow their minds yet again.

He already knew.

He knew He didn’t need much from the boy, only a little bit. He knew a meager offering is all that’s required, because God Himself would multiply it.

And after He multiplies it, and everyone has eaten as much as they wanted, Jesus instructs them to “gather the leftovers so nothing is wasted.”

So nothing is wasted.

First He takes next-to-nothing from one of His followers. Then He multiplies it, filling empty bellies. And then — oh then — He scoops up the leftover bits of His miracle-working, and He wastes none of it. Not a single scrap.

So when I mourn over my offering to Him, grieving that it’s not enough, I should perhaps dry my eyes. I should perhaps remember instead. Remember that He is the One who gave me my loaves and fish in the first place. Remember that when I offer my daily bread back to Him, He will use it as He sees fit. Remember that He is the One who will multiply my small sacrifices for His own glory. Remember that He is the One who uses even the leftovers of His miracles. Remember that He is the One who will never waste my worship.

So when I tell Him still one more time, “what good is that, God,” perhaps I would be better served simply to still my mouth, to quiet my questions, and to wait. To wait, and keep watch for Him to use even the crumbs of my life for Himself.

Which is all I really want anyway.

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He takes no pleasure in the strength of a horse or of human might.

No, the Lord’s delight is in those who fear Him,

those who put their hope in His unfailing Love.

Psalm 147:10-11

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